


Where Doesn't It Hurt?

by erryday24carrots



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: F/M, Female pronouns for Pidge, Homesick Lance (Voltron), Idiots in Love, Langst, M/M, Slow Burn, hand holding, implied shallura
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-31
Updated: 2017-05-31
Packaged: 2018-11-07 05:59:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,555
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11052777
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/erryday24carrots/pseuds/erryday24carrots
Summary: Lance is one confused string bean. Because he's in space, fighting for the universe. He doesn't know if his mama knows he's alive. He doesn't know when he'll get back to earth. He doesn't know why the color red is so appealing to him. He doesn't know how he feels about Keith.Well, maybe a little.-----Keith is not confused at all. He knows he has no family worrying about him. He knows he'll feel just as out of place when he returns to earth as he did when he left. He knows that the color blue is his favorite, and he knows why, and he knows who made it that way. And he knows exactly how he feels towards Lance, he just never lets himself indulge in the hope that maybe Lance could feel the same way.Well, maybe a little.





	Where Doesn't It Hurt?

**Author's Note:**

> Hi hello, this is literally my first time ever posting a fic, please be gentle.
> 
> This is based off of my own horribly awkward experiences!!! Nice!!! Also this chapter is VERY long, my apologies for those of you who were looking for something short sweet and to the point. Pls read this anyway.

  
This is all Pidge’s fault.

Lance continued to tell himself this throughout the night as he tossed and turned in his bed. He had pulled the covers up to his chin but made sure to keep the tips of his toes from being exposed. Lance hated when Pidge got to pick the movie on Wednesdays.

About two months ago Allura had decided that Team Voltron™ needed to bond more. They had been in a way simply going through the motions: discover a distress signal, wormhole on over to it, act surprised when they find out the Galra is behind the trouble in one way or another, kick ass, head back to the castle for a bite to eat and then sleep until the next distress signal is picked up. On one Wednesday when there was no distress signal to be heard, no random space explosion to shake the castle, no Galran fighter jets shooting at Lance’s window at 3:36 in the fucking morning (worst day of his life), the team plus Allura and Coran all sort of stumbled into the kitchen at their own pace, all looking vaguely confused and nervously pouring themselves cereal, anticipating an attack at any moment. When no such attack came, Hunk suggested a movie day, and all were quickly on board for a day to relax.

Allura and Coran knew what movies were in a sense, and led them all downstairs to the upside down pool room, where they were then brought into a side room of medium size with three bare, blue walls and one that was completely white. An Altean sort of projector had been embedded into the wall across from the white one, and after a bit of poking and prodding from Coran and some Earthly insight from Hunk and Pidge about what they were looking for, a kind-of-computer popped out of the wall, and the festivities were about to begin.

“Wait, where are we gonna sit?” Keith asked.

Allura pursed her lips. “Well on Altea, ‘movies’ were not really watched for pleasure. They were mostly educational or military videos, and were watched while standing, hence the absence of chairs.” She looked around the room a little nervously, seeming slightly embarrassed at her lack of knowledge of Earthly traditions. Shiro threw his arm around her and grinned. “No worries, I’ve got a plan.”

And now every Wednesday night, at around 8:00 PM Earth time, Team Voltron gathers in the movie room next to the pool to build a giant blanket-pillow-mattress nest and watch movies until the morning. 

Which brings us to the current issue.

Lance was starting to sweat under his blanket but he refused to move out of fear that the little ghost girl from "The Ring" would slither out from under his bed and stop his heart with a twitch of her malicious little ghost girl finger.

Lance had always had a love-hate relationship with scary movies - he loved them, and then later hated himself for watching them. He was a total wimp when it came to anything supernatural, and despite the fact that he was a paladin of Voltron, a defender of the known universe, a guardian of outer space who was supposed to have sharp senses and be ready to counter any surprise attack, he could NOT handle jump scares. Nope.

And because Pidge, the sadistic, adorable little brat, knew this about him, she specifically picked a creepy movie after Lance admitted he was no good with them. And now Lance was sweaty, scared, and thirsty.

And homesick.

His little brother used to do shit like that to him all the time. Pidge reminds him too much of his family.

Lance huffed and reached out for the light switch on the wall next to his bed, and flicked it on while quickly sitting up and setting his hands into a fighting stance, ready to push off any little ghost girl that wanted to go (and maybe making little karate noises in the process, but we may never know). When he saw that he was alone in his room, he sighed and threw off his blanket, letting the cool air rest against his warm skin for a minute before standing and stretching. He threw on a shirt before leaving his room and pausing at the long, dark hallway.

Lance blinked. "Okay Lance, don't be a baby. It's just a dark, sinister hallway that you've walked down a million times. Grow up," he said to himself as he made his way towards the kitchen.

By the time he saw the doorframe glowing soft blue that signaled he had reached his destination, Lance had calmed down a little bit. He turned on the dim lights and walked over to the fridge-thing that Alteans used (which was about a thousand degrees colder for some reason) and did the basic dad-looking-for-a-midnight-snack pose that Shiro does normally while looking in the fridge. He settled on grabbing a juice pouch and walked over the the floor-to-ceiling windows that made up the other half of the kitchen and just stared for a few minutes, lost in thought.

He did this more often than he realized, come into the kitchen for something from the fridge and then just stare into space. Most of the time it was enjoyable, especially after a nightmare, when he could simply stand and think without an alarm blaring or Hunk screaming or Allura and Shiro barking orders. For the most part, the universe was asleep. And it was beautiful.  
Some nights though, unpleasant thoughts and memories would seep in through the cracks in the walls he built around the dark part of his mind, and it was difficult to appreciate the beauty of outer space when all he wanted was to dig his toes into the beach by his home back on Earth.

Home.

Lance often found himself wondering how easily life must be moving along back at home. He wasn't really sure if his family even knew he was gone. They might just think he's still at the garrison, and the administration at the garrison might have just wanted to cover up the fact that four of their students had gone rogue and disappeared. What if the admin had gone and told his family he just left them, without saying goodbye? What if they made him appear like the bad guy? What did his siblings think? What did his Mama think of him now?

His dorm room at the garrison would be filled by now, considering the hundreds of other capable pilots waiting to get into the program, many of whom deserved to be there more than he had. The beach by his house would have many other Cuban boys to splash in its waters, his Mama has many other little boys who will excel in life, and meanwhile Lance will just be here. Floating in outer space and sipping a juice pouch and being the team screwup and-

Creeeeeaaaaaak.

Lance whipped his head around, goosebumps quickly forming on his skin. He gripped his empty juice pouch tightly, suddenly on edge from the mysterious noise. It hadn't been the sound of the kitchen door opening, but sounded more like...

Lance turned even further and saw the fridge door was open ajar, although he specifically remembered to close it.

"Ohhh no," Lance said to a seemingly empty room. He looked around wildly. "Uh uh. I've seen too many scary movies to know this is how it ends. I'm self aware dammit, you can't kill me, I'm the one good character!"

Something shuffled to his right. Lance backed up slowly until his lower back was pressed into the island in the center of the kitchen. He felt something similar to butterflies floating in his stomach, except instead of butterflies they were scorpions, and instead of floating around they were having a dance-off.

"Alright you... you ghost-demon...thing! Show your face, ugly! I'll kick your ass! I'll kick anyone's ass! I'll kick my own ass!" Lance clenched his jaw in anticipation. The air in the room shifted. Something moved.

"You think you can scare me?" Lance said, scared. "Try again you little piece of-"

"Boo."

No one will ever be able to convince Lance that he shrieked. But he did.

An impressively high pitched sound erupted from Lance's mouth as he whipped around, one hand covering his heart to ensure it wouldn't burst from his chest, and opened his eyes to see no other than-

Keith.

He was casually leaning on the island. Forearms on the surface, juice pouch straw in his mouth, smirk on his face. He gave a light chuckle.

This piece of SHIT, Lance thought to himself before sucking in a deeply needed breath after that totally "manly" scream. Lance bent over and placed his hands on his knees to let his pulse slow.

"Keith, what the FUCK dude?" Lance said with a breathy laugh, thankful that it wasn't a ghost-demon come to kill him. "You know I don't do well with jump scares!"

Keith blinked. "Excellent screech. 10/10 would definitely scare the shit out of again," he said with a roll of his eyes as he stood up straighter. His shirt was wet around the collar, and it looked more like sweat to Lance than anything else. Lance found himself eyeing his damp collarbones, couldn't help appreciating how sharp they were-

"Dude? Hello?" Keith snapped his fingers in Lance's face, causing him to flinch out of his thoughts. Lance shook his head. Stupid.

"M'sorry, what?" Lance replied.

"I asked why you're up at one in the morning?" Keith said, tossing his empty juice pouch in the trash and grabbing another from the fridge.

"Oh I just, um. I just couldn't sleep," Lance replied, rubbing at his eyes. He was tired as hell. Keith huffed out a small laugh, and Lance's eyes closed almost involuntarily at the sound. Stupid, he thought.

"What, little ghost girl scared you too much?" Keith teased.

"Hey! The makeup and effects were realistic, okay?"

"No no, I believe it. And you assumed that instead of it being one of your shipmates sneaking up behind you that it was a fictional ghost child."

"Well I mean-"

"Millions of light years away."

"When you say it like that-"

"In outer space."

"Keith!"

"Naturally."

Lance groaned and rolled his eyes. "Yeah, okay, whatever. At least I didn't cry when we watched Finding Dory."

"Hey you shut your fuckin' mouth, that's a quality movie," Keith threatened in a very non threatening way.

"What’re you doing up anyways?" Lance asked. Keith rolled his shoulders back, suddenly seeming very interested in the pattern on the counter.

"Couldn't sleep either. Not because I was afraid of a little ghost child sucking my soul out or whatever. Just restless. I was training."

Lance nodded. Recently a lot of the team members had been having issues falling asleep and staying that way. Most of them came back from a mission exhausted as hell and ready to drop, but when they'd fall into bed they'd only be plagued by the sounds of guns shooting and people screaming. It doesn't really get any easier.

"Also I heard you muttering encouragement to yourself as you walked down the hallway."

Lance's eyes widened, and he felt his face redden a little. "Shut up, Keith. I was not."

"Mhmm," Keith hummed. "Don't worry, it's Hunk's turn next week to pick out the movie, so you shouldn't get the shit scared out of you that time."

"Yeah, Hunk always picks good movies," Lance supplied, feeling the conversation begin to die a little. "Pretty good idea I think, having a weekly movie night."

"Oh yeah, minus the minor setback the first time we tried to watch a movie and had to physically force Allura and Coran to sit down to watch it," Keith said, and they both shared a laugh at the memory, soft and pleasant. Keith looked up at Lance, his cheeks light pink, from training or from something else Lance wasn't sure. "That was a good day."

It was a good day. Lance remembered it. Lance remembered _all_ of it.

~~~

Shiro's idea of a blanket nest/fort thing was fucking BRILLIANT in Lance's eyes. It reminded him of when he shared a room with two of his brothers and they built huge blanket forts over their beds. He had sighed at the memory as he walked back from the kitchen with two gigantic bowls of sort-of popcorn and three bags of space Twizzlers somehow balanced in his arms. They were going to spend the night watching the Lord of the Rings trilogy (a classic, thank you very much) and eat all the junk they desired. Lance was on top of the world.

He came crashing down, however, when he got back and realized that the seating arrangement had already been sorted out. Shiro and Allura claimed the middle (apparently because Shiro needed to explain the movie to her, in which everyone called bullshit in their minds but remained silent), Pidge was curled into Shiro's right side, Hunk was attempting to figure out how to use the remote on Allura's left, while Coran sat with a relaxed smile next to him as he watched the poor earthling hold the remote backwards. Keith was in his room putting on sweats, but it didn't matter. Lance would have to sit next to him no matter which side of the nest he sat on.

It wasn't that he didn't like Keith. He actually liked Keith very much, which was beginning to be the problem. After a few pairs missions with him here and there he found that Keith’s sense of humor can be revealed after a day or two stranded on a rainforest planet. Keith was a good guy, a great guy. Their rivalry still existed, very much so, only now it was more of friendly competitiveness and general fun assholery to each other. Months on a spaceship together will do that to you. But recently when Lance climbs into the red lion to bring Keith lunch while he bonds with her, or when he walks with him on their way to an important meeting, or when he even passes by his room on the way to the training deck he just gets this little budding feeling of "Yes! Time to see Keith again! Yes! Good!" Lance had noted a few… shifts in their demeanor around each other. Sometimes he would glance over at Keith and find him to be already staring. Or Keith would say something behind him and Lance would realize how close they were actually standing to each other.

And Lance isn't an idiot. Well he is an idiot, but only about dumb things. Not when it comes to feelings. He knows how it begins, he recognizes the small, curling flickers of a crush in his belly. And while he and Keith may not have gotten along at all in the beginning, Lance is internally mature enough to admit to himself that those feelings of dislike had been mostly just a lot of misplaced jealousy. A crush is a crush.

Not a big deal, usually these things pass. Except it had been almost four months since he had come to his realization, and it wasn't passing. And if Lance had to sit next to him for an entire Lord of the Rings marathon extravaganza, he wasn't sure how he would get through it.

He sat down anyway.

When Keith came downstairs, he was in black adidas sweats (who knew aliens liked earth style name brands?) and a red tank top, hair damp like he had just washed it. He glanced around the room and when he spotted the space next to Lance, he smiled a little. Lance felt his heart skip.

"Sweet, I get to sit by all the snacks, suckers," he said as he plopped down and snagged the twizzler from out of Lance's hand.

Lance frowned. Typical.

Surprisingly, the marathon wasn't that bad. Shiro and Allura talked for most of it (which would have been annoying if it wasn't so stupidly adorable), Coran was completely fixated on the screen, his eyes the size of platters and he was shoveling popcorn into his mouth, Hunk and Pidge just watched in silence, no doubt reminiscing about when they used to watch this back on Earth. Lance felt a twinge of homesickness in his heart. He shoved it down as he bit into another Twizzler.

Keith was fine. He kept to himself, left a decent amount of space between himself and Lance, and just watched. Lance was annoyingly aware of Keith by his side. Only a few more times did he wait until Lance had brought a Twizzler halfway to his mouth before snatching it for himself, but for the most part Lance had minimal contact with him throughout the marathon. And while he knew that was a good thing, he was also a bit disappointed.

At least, until 1:00 AM rolled around and Keith began to nod off.

Onto Lance's shoulder.

You know that meme that shows a dog with a hat sitting on a chair in a house that's on fire, simply smiling and saying, "This is fine"? Yes.

Lance.exe has stopped working. He had no idea what to do. Did he shove him off? Loll his head to the other side? No, he didn't want to wake him up. Just let him stay there then? But what if one of the others woke up and saw? Lance would never hear the end of it, especially not from Hunk and Pidge, who already had their suspicions of Lance's feelings...

Lance decided that if Keith woke up to find himself asleep on Lance's shoulder, his hatred for him would only increase. That was the last thing Lance wanted. He looked over at Keith to begin to move his head to the other side and-

Keith was completely out. The slightly permanent scowl that he usually displayed had disappeared, his lashes rested against his cheekbones, his lips were parted, breathing gently. This was the face of someone greatly exhausted, someone who desperately needed rest. He looked so calm and warm, and Lance didn't have the heart to move him. Instead, he just lay there, pressed against Keith while he slept gently on his shoulder, and watched. He would never get an opportunity to see him like this again, so he just soaked it in.

Keith is really pretty, was Lance's last thought before his eyes fluttered closed and he nodded into the warmest sleep he'd had in a very long time.

~~~

(Present)

Lance felt his face flush, assuming Keith was referencing that moment. Keith had woken up before Lance, and Lance had blinked his eyes open to watch as Keith walked out of the room. Keith didn't speak to Lance for the rest of that day.

"Yeah," Lance said, barely above a whisper. "It was."

Keith blinked and took a step back, and both boys suddenly realized how close they had gotten while they talked. He rolled his shoulders back again.

"Well um. I've got to do… training. Gotta go do that," he muttered, turning away from Lance and walking towards the door. "Don't stay up too late. Night Lance."

Lance ducked his head. He hoped the dim light helped to hide his blush. "Yeah, you're only up this late trying to one up me, as usual. Hurry up and go to bed!" Keith scoffed and flipped him off on his way out the door.

Lance waited until he couldn't hear his footsteps pad down the hallway anymore before pressing a hand over his chest and leaning back against the island, sliding down until he was sitting on the floor.

Fuck.

~~~

At breakfast the next morning, Keith looked wrecked.

“Dude, how long did you stay up training?” Lance asked him when Shiro practically dumped him into one of the chairs surrounding the table. Keith looked like he was about to answer when Shiro interrupted him.

“Keith here was found passed out, bayard in hand, on the floor of the training deck. For the fourth time. Because he lacks self control and doesn’t know when his body is telling him to quit,” Shiro practically snarled. Lance would have usually been a little taken back by Shiro’s tone of voice, but he could only focus on what he had just said.

“Wait, what? What did you just pass out on the floor of the training deck or something? I would have sent you back to bed if I had known that you planned to just conk the fuck out on the damn floor! What, did you just sleep in those clothes?” Lance wished he had said that a little bit more quietly when he realized everyone was looking at him with mixed expressions. He shrunk in in himself a bit more. He forgot he wasn’t supposed to care as much as he did.

“Hold on,” Shiro interrupted the break of voices, “Lance, you knew?! And you didn’t even think to make him-”

“Keith,” Allura interrupted Shiro with a hand on his shoulder. She drug her questioning gaze away from where it had been on Lance, now fixing Keith was a soft, scolding look. “We’ve talked about this. At any given moment there could be an attack and Voltron might be needed. We need each paladin to be healthy and alert enough to respond.”

“Not to mention if you keep this up, there could be serious damage to your health. You’ve gotta get more sleep dude, and exert your body less,” Hunk chimed in seriously.

“We all need you to be good; we care about you,” Pidge chimed in.

Keith began to look uncomfortable with everyone staring at him, but too tired to put up a fight. He glanced up as Coran placed a bowl in front of him and a hand on his shoulder. “Eat,” he said in a way that sounded worried and threatening at the same time. He mumbled something that sounded like, “Okay, okay…” before beginning to eat.

When breakfast was over, people began to file out of the kitchen one by one to take full advantage of their free time before training began at 10:30. Lance had told Coran he would do the dishes, still feeling guilty about starting a goo fight the week before. He was thankful each paladin finished eating at different times, because it meant he wasn’t overloaded with bowls when everyone left the kitchen. He was placing the stack of now clean bowls back in the cupboard when he saw that Keith had not moved from his place at the table, glaring at his half eaten bowl of goo.

The poor guy looked like he could carry groceries with the bags under his eyes. What was keeping him awake?

Lance dried his hands on a towel and sat down in the chair across from Keith. Keith glanced up and blinked, like he was shaking himself from a trance. He cleared his throat and picked up his bowl before sliding his chair back, standing up and taking all of one step away from the table before Lance spoke up.

“Sit,” he instructed, surprised even at himself at the way what meant to come off as encouraging came off more as an order. Keith stared at him for a second, seemingly contemplating whether or not he would follow it.

He sat back down.

Lance sighed at the visible exhaustion in Keith’s eyes. How had he not noticed it the night before? Some teammate he is. Part of him wanted to blame it on the poor lighting, but Lance knew it was because he was selfishly only focusing on how pretty his stupid collarbones are. Stupid.

“Look Keith-” Lance began.

“Nightmares,” was all Keith said. He was staring at his fingers, scratching at one of the calluses on the tips. Lance wanted to make him stop because it would scar, but he knew now wasn’t the right time.

“Oh,” he said stupidly. Keith nodded once, still staring at the callus on his finger. In any other situation with any of the other paladins, Lance would know what to do. He knows Pidge well enough to understand that a quick ruffle of the hair and a distraction is what she needs to feel normal again. He knows Hunk very well, and knows that a long, much needed hug and forcing him into a shower gets him back on his feet. He knows that Shiro can rant for hours, and the best thing to do is listen and offer him water when he runs out of breath. But Keith?

Fuck. He had no idea what to say. He had no idea what his nightmares were about, or how often he got them. He had no idea whether he needed physical attention or to just be left alone. He had no idea if Keith even wanted him to be there for him, or if he needed someone else. Of course he needs someone else, what good can you do anyway?

Lance didn’t want the way he felt (about Keith or about himself) to get in the way of helping him. He pushed away the little voice in his head that told him to get up and walk away because this wasn’t his problem, that Lance himself was he problem, always the problem. He reached a hand across the table, placing in on Keith’s arm and squeezing gently.

“Hey.”

Keith looked up.

“I know I don’t know. And I know I’m not as close to you as Shiro is, and I won’t be able to help as much…” Lance tried to finish the sentence before he lost his courage, “but you aren’t alone. We aren’t trying to make you feel bad or anything, we just care about you.”

Keith blinked, and Lance didn’t try to understand the expression he wore on his face, which was more red than it had been a few minutes ago. If he would have tried, he would have failed. He gave him a smile that he hoped was more reassuring than anything. Keith let the corners of his mouth turn up just the slightest. It wasn’t much, but Lance counted it as a success. Keith averted his eyes back to his fingers.

“Thanks, Lance.”

Lance’s heart fluttered ever so slightly, but he pretended he didn’t feel it. What he felt right now didn’t matter - he just wanted Keith to be okay. Lance squeezed his arm a little bit again before standing up to put the towel back. He could sense that Keith wasn’t ready to share just yet what was bothering him so much, and that maybe he just needed some time with his thoughts. And he needed to leave before he said something creepy about how nice his hands were.

He had almost achieved his goal of making an exit without saying something he didn’t mean to when he felt himself turn at the exit and say, “My door’s always open if you need anything. You know where to find me.” Then he spun and walked out of the kitchen, down the hall and into his room where he promptly fell onto his bed, heart racing.

How the hell did he just do that?

In the kitchen, Keith was staring at the place on his arm where Lance’s hand had been. He wasn’t sure if it was because of his lack of sleep and his brain was doing weird things, but there was warmth still lingering there even after Lance had taken his hand back. Keith mentally slapped himself when he realized he was sitting at the kitchen table still, smiling dopily at his arm with a blush dusting his cheeks.

Snap out of it!

~~~

Lance was excited as FUCK for the next movie night, because it was Hunk’s night to chose the movies. Hunk and Lance had very similar taste in movies, so essentially Hunk’s night was Lance’s night and Lance’s night was Hunk’s night. It was this kind of unspoken agreement that before asking Pidge to download whatever movie, one would look at the other and wait for the nod of approval. Hunk always picked awesome movies.

Lance was grinning widely as Hunk began to download “Indiana Jones: Raiders of the Lost Ark” into the system, already cracking open a bottle of really weird but surprisingly sweet Altean soda and snuggling into the blanket he had brought from his room. He and his mama used to love these movies.

But he tried not to think about that too much.

The room as of right now consisted only of Hunk and Lance, who was extremely excited and had rushed into his room to get ready quickly when Hunk had decided what the movie would be. Hunk was fiddling with one of the computers and laughing at Lance, acting like the overexcited child he was. When he eventually pulled up the movie menu and Lance heard the iconic theme song of the one and only Indiana Jones, excitement bubbled inside him and he cheered loudly.

“Yes! Can we start now? We don’t have to wait for the others,” Lance whined to Hunk.

“Dude,” Hunk chuckled, “they’re going to be down here in like five minutes, chill.” Lance knew he was making a pouty face, but he took a deep breath and tried to relax into his blanket. Stop being so annoying, you’re acting like a child, a voice in the back of his head hissed at him. He frowned and shook his head, taking another sip of his soda.

Surprisingly, the first to come down from the rooms was Keith, this time in soft looking sweats and a tshirt that was too big for him. Where did he even get that shirt? Why does he look so cute in it?

He was carrying his massive, fluffy blanket with him (how he slept with that thing without suffocating was beyond Lance) and a bag of Twizzlers. His hair was pulled up into a loose bun, random strands falling out and framing his face. Lance wondered where the air in his lungs had flown off to, because there didn’t seem to be any left.

Keith just kind of stood there in the doorway, fiddling with something on his blanket, eyebrows scrunched. Lance sat on his mattress, bottle of alien soda halfway to his lips. Hunk stood at the computer, pretending to work and inwardly rolling his eyes at these two idiots. Lance tore his eyes away from Keith and back to the menu screen, focusing too hard on the faces passing under the movie options. Keith’s eyes moved around the room as he walked towards Lance, and he found himself wishing he would look at him, and wishing he wouldn’t. He approached him slowly, like Lance was some wild animal and if he got too close he would get bitten. What, Lance thought to himself, too good to sit next to me for more than one movie night?

“Hey, um,” Lance looked up to see Keith was standing over him, opening his bag of Twizzlers, “I forgot my mattress upstairs, can I sit on yours? I won’t take up too much space.”

Lance blinked, and quite impressively refrained from making a terrible pun about space. Was he…

“I brought Twizzlers.”

Nervous?

A blush bloomed over Lance’s cheeks, and he felt his face split into a smile. He scooted over and patted the space next to him, and Keith flopped down beside him with a tired grunt (a little closer than was necessary, but Lance pretended not to notice). He gave Lance a look that if he didn’t know Keith to be such a grumpy, fearless asshole, would have been akin to embarrassment.

“I’ve never actually seen these movies, but you squealed when Hunk said we’d be watching it so I’m assuming it’s good?” Keith said, handing the bag to Lance and feigning disinterest as he got settled beside him on the mattress.

What?! Wait okay - first of all - hang on I don’t -” Lance sputtered, partly trying to express his outrage and partly trying to defend himself (because he does not squeal dammit).

“Okay, hang on I did not squeal. Whatever sound you heard probably came from Pidge. Or the mice or… something,” Lance muttered.

“Mhm,” he heard Hunk mumble disbelievingly from somewhere behind him. He shot him a glare but pressed on.

“And also, have you really not seen any of these? I mean I’ll excuse you from the fourth one because that one was ass, but still really? None of them?” Lance asked. Keith shrugged and stared at the movie menu.

“Not really, I mean I haven’t seen most of the movies you guys have chosen so far. I never really had the chance to…” he trailed off before blinking and shaking his head. “No, I haven’t.”

Lance could tell he didn’t want the subject to be pressed further. He snatched the Twizzler from Keith’s hand.

“Hey-” Keith began.

“Well prepare to be amazed, because this is one of the best action classics you’ll find out there. The perfect combination of unrealistic gun fights, completely fake blood and gore - complete with melting faces, but I won’t spoil that for you - and an utterly unnecessary yet totally predictable romantic side plot, all in the prime setting of the mid 1930’s. Super cheesy and absolutely my favorite movie ever. You’ll like it, the main character is almost as emotionally constipated as you are.”

Keith punched him, but with a smile on his face. Lance only wanted to be punched like that from now on.

Eventually everyone spilled into the room, dressed comfortably and ready for another late night spent being happy together. Three more mattresses were brought in, along with ten more blankets and about a million pillows. Everyone settled down in their respective spots, Allura pressed against Shiro’s side. Lance felt something familiar - yet foreign in this situation - twinge in his chest at the sight of them, something too similar to jealousy than he felt comfortable with. He shoved those thoughts down. Lance hummed along to the iconic theme song, something his entire family would sing loudly when they all watched it together. He knew he was sitting there grinning like an idiot over something as simple as watching an old favorite of his, but he was too excited to care.

He was, however, extremely aware of Keith’s presence at his side, wrapped in his thick blanket and taking sips of his juice pouch, completely unaware of how warm he felt next to Lance. Keith seemed to be very interested in the movie, eyes locked onto the screen and eyebrows scrunched just slightly, a focused expression on his face. Lance found it funny that even during what should be a relaxing evening Keith looked intense.

As Lance watched the movie, he felt an almost overwhelming sense of longing for his family. His real one. Because yes, of course these people here surrounding him were considered family too; but he still missed doing this kind of thing with his mama. He missed teaching his little brother how to make homemade popcorn. He missed sitting in his favorite chair - the one with the best view of the screen - and instantly being cuddled by his triplet cousins. He missed stretching out on the couch and watching sappy romance movies while his sister combed her fingers through his hair. He missed watching Disney movies with the little ones, and gory movies with his older brothers. He missed watching Indiana Jones with his mama.

He forced himself back to the movie, chuckling as he watched Indiana Jones fend off about a million snakes while in the temple containing the Ark. He leaned over to grab another Twizzler, nudging Keith as he did so.

“Whatcha think so far? Pretty great huh?” he whispered, never taking his eyes off the screen as Indiana sprayed gasoline on the snakes and tossed a torch onto them. He had to strain to hear Keith’s murmured reply.

“It’s… interestingly dramatic. I like it.” Lance nodded and refocused on the movie, a Twizzler in his mouth and a smile on his face.

He’s only saying that because he feels bad for you.

Lance frowned.

Shut up.

They watched as Indiana Jones boarded a much safer ship where his friends were waiting for him, covered in poorly applied makeup that was supposed to looked like cuts and bruises. Oh. Oh. He smacked Keith on the arm.

“Ouch.”

“Keith!” Lance whisper-yelled, “This is it! The peak of the cheesy romantic side plot. Prepare to be amazed and annoyed at the same time.” He heard Keith huff out a quiet laugh, and decided that he really wish Keith laughed more often. He kept his eyes locked on the movie.

“Well God damn it Indy, where doesn’t it hurt?!” Marion Ravenwood had been attempting to tend to Indiana’s wounds, dabbing a fake wet towel on his fake scrapes and bruises while laying on a too-tiny bed. Every time she tried he would swat her hand away, saying it hurt too much every time she touched him. In her frustration, she asked where she could touch him where it didn’t hurt.

Keith shifted beside him, and it was in that moment that Lance was sort of shaken from the movie, only then noticing how closely they had been squished together when the rest of the Voltron family settled down for the movie. Lance had given his blanket to Pidge, who had forgotten hers upstairs. He and Keith were now huddled together underneath his huge fluffy blanket, his thigh pressed against Keith’s, shoulders touching. Keith had moved his arm so his hand rested in the small space where their thighs met. His hand was so close to Lance’s, so close; Lance felt his pinky twitch.

Angrily, Indiana Jones raised his left arm and pointed to his elbow. “Here!” Marion leaned over him to place a smacking kiss on his elbow.

Lance inched his hand over.

Indiana pointed to his forehead. “Here,” he grumbled, less angry but still annoyed. Marion grabbed the brim of his famous hat and dramatically threw it off his head. She placed another kiss to the place he pointed.

Lance hesitantly wrapped his pinky finger around Keith’s.

Indiana raised a finger to his temple. “This isn’t so bad,” he mumbled out quieter, and Marion again leaned over to press her lips gently to the indicated place.

Keith let his hand open to Lance’s fingers.

“Here,” Indiana raised a finger to his lips, finally, and Marion leaned into him as their lips collided in an overly theatrical and frankly unnecessary kiss. The background music oozed sweet romance, and their lips seemed to move in harmony to the sound.

Lance knotted his fingers through Keith’s. His hands were warm.

Lance knew he was red in the face but kept his eyes focused on the screen despite how much he wanted to gauge Keith’s reaction. He knew if he looked at him now, he wouldn’t be able to look away. He didn’t want to draw any attention to this, not yet. This was their moment for a little bit. Lance felt the small smile settle over his face, and softly squeezed Keith’s hand.

Keith squeezed back.

 

 

 

 


End file.
